


This Was a Home Once

by overratedantihero



Series: You Don't Own Me (I'm Not One of Your Many Toys) [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dick is an Omega, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Growing Up, Puberty, Slice of Life, mention of heat cycles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 03:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15699633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overratedantihero/pseuds/overratedantihero
Summary: Sidekicks grow up so fast.





	This Was a Home Once

Dick was nine years old when Bruce finished his vest. Alfred stood over him, monitoring the sewing, while Dick ran through an obstacle course in the gym.

“Not to assert an unsolicited concern, Master Bruce, but this costume seems rather threadbare for your purposes,” Alfred offered, sparing a glance over to the open window of the gym where Dick tumbled. Even from here, Alfred could see the flashes of a grin on his face.

Bruce grunted. “He won’t be in any danger. He will follow me, do precisely as I say, and it will be fine.” Bruce paused, glancing up at Alfred. “He wants this. For better reasons than I did.”

Alfred frowned. “I trust you, sir.”

* * *

 

The costume fit perfectly. So did the role. Dick presented when he was 11.

Dick wriggled and scrunched his nose. “B, I don’t get it. You don’t wear ‘em, why do I have to?” His voice was still high and thin, and Bruce wondered how much longer before Dick’s voice became as unfamiliar as his scent.

Bruce finished placing the scent blocking stickers, fashioned especially for this purpose. Then, he gently scent marked Dick, brushing his wrists across Dick’s cheeks while Dick tried to wiggle away.

“You’re an omega, Dick. There are people who will take advantage of you because of that,” Bruce explained. He inhaled. Better. Dick smelled almost neutral, disregarding the hint of Bruce’s own scent. Bruce would keep working on the prototype.

Dick scowled. “Then they’re bad guys and we fight bad guys,” Dick retorted. “Besides, doesn’t it make it obvious that I’m an omega if the only ones who don’t wear them are alphas?”

Somewhere in the cave, water dripped. “Okay,” Bruce said. “I’ll wear them too.”

* * *

 

Dick had his first heat when he was 16. He burst into Bruce’s room, swinging the door so hard that it hit and dented the wall. Selina was draped on Bruce but (thankfully) they were both still clothed in their evening wear.

“I think I’m dying,” Dick whimpered.

Bruce was frozen, and so Selina sat up. “No, kitten, you probably aren’t. What’s happened?”

Dick bit his lip. “I’m. It’s bleeding. It’s- it’s never done that before. And there’s, uh. Other stuff.”

Selina hummed. “Swelling?”

Bruce winced but Dick nodded, still worrying his lip between his teeth. Selina stood and wandered over to her purse. She pulled out a small, plastic wrapped square and held it out to Dick.

Dick hesitated and Selina rolled her eyes. “Bruce, doll, you should have told him this would happen.”

Bruce scowled and Dick ventured, “What would happen?” Selina offered him a soft, sweet grin.

“Your heat, kitten. It starts with swelling and light bleeding, and after a few days it’s replaced with a high libido.” Dick flushed scarlet, and Selina added, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s perfectly normal for an omega. This is a liner. Put it in your underwear to protect your clothes from stains. And don’t worry about the urges, just be safe and judicious.”

Seemingly a little more comfortable in his own skin, Dick strode across the room and accepted the liner, head high. From the bed, Bruce cleared his throat.

“Dick,” Bruce said, opening his nightstand and pulling out several condoms. Dick flushed all over again, but accepted those as well, even though Bruce wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Dick left the room in a hurry after that, head ducked. When the door clicked shut behind him, Bruce fell back on his bed and placed a hand over his face.

“He was 9 a few days ago.”

Selina smirked. “And now he’s 16 and having heats. You need to talk to him more, Bruce. Puberty is scary enough without having to figure it out as it comes along.” She unzipped her dress and let it pool to the floor. She crawled back on the bed, gently pried Bruce’s hand from over his eyes.

“It’ll be okay,” she assured him. “I promise.”

* * *

 

Dick left behind the scent blockers when he took up the Nightwing mantle.

“It’s for the best, sir,” Alfred murmured, placing a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “He is less likely to be associated as Robin now.”

Despite Alfred’s assurances, Bruce wanted to argue the issue with Dick. But they argued so often about everything else that it never came up.

* * *

 

Bruce had locked himself in his study. Somehow, Alfred enters anyway, after a brief knock.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred murmurs, offering a tray. “After dinner tea?”

Bruce picks his head up from his hands. He’s sitting at his desk, and there’s nothing to glare at except for the wood grains. “He reeks,” Bruce growls, an action which earns him raised eyebrows from Alfred. “Of that man.”

“Master Dick is an adult. Who he chooses to spend time with is hardly up to your discretion.”

Bruce glances up at Alfred. “He’s making bad choices. This especially, _this_ is more reckless than he’s ever been.”

Alfred withdraws the tray so that it’s close to his chest. “Regardless of their quality, they’re his choices to make. You of all people should respect the unyielding nature of this family.”

“I’ll cut him off,” Bruce threatens.

“And drive him further towards new benefactors?” Alfred shoots back. “I won’t have it. Come out, while the boys are still here. I still have dessert to serve.”

”I’ll have Slade arrested,” Bruce pitches. Alfred sighs. 

“And he would be out in days. Come along, Master Bruce.”

Bruce follows Alfred from the study, back towards the dining room. But he stops as they pass through the den. There, on the couch, Dick is splayed, with Damian resting on top of him. Damian’s face is buried in Dick’s neck and both sleep soundly.

With his jaw slack and arm wrapped loosely around Damian’s waist, Dick appears much younger and sweeter than he does when awake and matching Bruce barb for barb. Bruce wanders over, brushes hair from Dick’s face. Neither he nor Damian move, likely soothed by the surrounding scent of home. The deep rise and fall of their breaths chip away at the facade of anger Bruce had constructed.

When he finally joins Alfred in the kitchen, Bruce crosses his arms. “I wish he wouldn’t do this.”

Alfred hums as he scores a cake. “I actually quite like it myself. He has such a way with Master Damian, his mere presence seems to give Master Damian license to behave like a child.”

“That’s not when I meant,” Bruce shoots back. “And you know it.”

Alfred slices into the cake. “Is this because he’s your eldest? Or because he’s an omega?”

Bruce bristles. “I don’t like what you’re implying,” he grinds out.

“I would never _imply_ something so improper as sexism,” Alfred murmurs, disseminating slices of cake to delicate plates laid out to the side. “I would argue that I’m very _explicit_ in my belief that you’re feeling protective of Master Dick because he’s your only omega. Our only omega.”

Bruce closes his eyes. Alfred was right. Dick was not his, if anyone’s, he was the family’s. He opens his eyes.

“Should I wake the boys?” He offers, gesturing to the cake.

“Let then sleep,” Alfred proposes. “With a bit more time, maybe Master Dick will smell more like home and less like impropriety.”

Bruce wrinkles his eyebrows and emits an offended grunt. Alfred drags his eyes from his task to meet Bruce’s pout.

“They’re his choices, and I’ll defend his right to them. That doesn’t mean I have to _like_ them.”


End file.
